


Soul To Keep

by Torra



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-29
Updated: 2009-11-29
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:17:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torra/pseuds/Torra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray Kowalski thought his life was going along just fine, but the Powers In Charge have a different idea, and it's Fraser's assignment to fix things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soul To Keep

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Hum, blasphemy? Maybe?
> 
> Written as as a backup writer/fic for DS_Match '08 Team Whimsey.

"You wanted to see me, Sir?"

"Ah, yes, Constable, please come in. I believe you've met Chief Superintendent Mkahanil before?" Thatcher gestured to tall, blond man standing next to her behind the desk.

Fraser forced himself a little straighter. "No, Sir, only heard of." He nodded to the superior officer. "Of course."

Thatcher raised and eyebrow. "Hmm. Yes, well, Chief Superintendent Mkahanil is here on behalf of the...higher ups."

Fraser couldn't help but clear his throat, his last two years of work flashing before his eyes. "Is there a reason for this visit, sir?"

Thatcher rolled her eyes. "Of course there is, Constable. Officers of Mkahanil's importance hardly come around for a polite cup of tea, now do they?"

"Yes, Sir. I mean, no, Sir."

"I was sent to speak to you before you returned to your duties with the Chicago Police Department, Constable."

"Before I returned, Sir?"

Mkahanil raised one eyebrow archingly, "You _are_ just returned from a trip home, are you not?"

Fraser nodded, "Yes, Sir...recently."

Mkahanil nodded, "Good. There's been a change to your standing assignment here." The eyebrow was nearly raised again at Fraser's in-draw of breath, but a sharp look from Thatcher kept Fraser from voicing his question and Mkahanil pressed onward. "We've sent the detective known as Raymond Vecchio away, and while we do feel his work in aiding you, however unknowingly, was important and well done, there is something much more important for you attentions now."

"More important, sir?" He couldn't bite the words back quickly enough that time.

"Yes. We've assigned you a new partner, one Detective Stanley Kowalski. He was one of our cases in his youth. You'll be assigned to him for the foreseeable future."

Fraser couldn't stop the thumb to his eyebrow, nor the tilt of his head, "Assigned how, sir? If I'm allowed to know?"

Mkahanil and Thatcher exchanged a long look, before Thatcher finally took over the story. "One of the Powers drew it to our attention that Detective Kowalski's life history was entered incorrectly into the records."

"Incorrectly, Sir? I didn't think that was possible."

"It's rare," Mkahanil admitted, "Lives are rarely so disrupted that the changes are not caught quickly. It appears that when his life was set on its path, the one in charge of his records did not take into account the man he was destined to become."

"It would seem that Detective Kowalski was never meant to stay a cop. Or stay married." Thatcher picked up, folding her hands on top of her desk and leaning over them slightly. "When he was set upon his life path, he was intended to meet a strong woman, who would help to push him into a more educated field. It was foreseen that he would become an officer of the peace for only a short time, but when he saw the corruption of those he trusted, it was expected to drive him out and onto a new path. That same corruption was supposed to inspire his then wife into a path of law herself, to bring those corrupt influences to justice. The two of them would work together, but then part peacefully as wiser, more well-rounded people. It was even hoped that after fighting the corruption of those in power, he might take what he had learned and return to fight corruption within the Faith."

"It would seem, however, that this man has a far stronger sense of loyalty than we expected." Mkahanil paused to scratch behind his ear, almost bashfully, before he caught himself and dropped his hand back to his side and pulled his shoulders back tight again. "He did not figure out the corruption when it happened, and so did not see any need to leave law enforcement. His wife, however, did find her intended path, and continued her growth and in time did divorce him in order to continue on her way," He sighed slightly now, letting some emotion about the subject finally show though his starched demeanor. "Stanley, unfortunately, did not take well to this. He has clung to her, and to any work which might keep her in his life, no matter what the cost to either of them."

Fraser cleared his throat. Finding his thumb already working at his eyebrow again. He forced it down. "And I am to help him...how sir?"

Mkahanil gave Fraser an hard look. "You are to fix this."

"Fix?" Another sharp look for Thatcher had him adding, "Sir?"

"The good detective is not _meant_ to be a police officer, Constable, and his time to love Stella Kowalski has past. If he continues on this path of obsession, he will be lead further and further into the darkness. He is a good soul, and not one the higher ups wish to lose."

"A second chance is quickly approaching, and very soon this man will again have to deal with those events that were meant to be his point of change. You must be there, and be ready to facilitate fate in any way possible. This man _must_ be set once again on the correct path, or he may be lost to us forever."

"Ah."

Mkahanil's look seemed to shoot straight though Fraser, the sudden power behind his words shining with a light of importance which only the truly highest of the orders could ever achieve. "You _must_ make him ready to face the life ahead of him, Constable. He is a strong man, and he is only weakened by his inability to let go of what he once had. He _must not_ be lost."

Fraser nodded, drawing his heels together sharply. "Yes, Sir."

The three of them remained looking at each other for another long moment before Thatcher finally sighed. "That will be _all_, Constable."

Turning briskly, Fraser shut the door quietly behind him before leaning heavily against it for just a moment. He hadn't had the heart to tell them he had already met Ray the day before. Welsh had, of course, given Fraser an entirely different explanation as to the man's sudden appearance, but with this new information, Fraser was now beginning to understand why this man, who looked and sounded in no way like his predecessor, had been given this assignment. The man he had met the day before had seemed perfectly healthy and sound, both of mind and spirit, and Fraser had sensed absolute no spark of evil or malice within him, nor seen any Shadows surrounding him where there should not be. But the Fate being what it was, and Fraser being what _he_ was, he supposed if he had been assigned to save him, then the Powers Above must see the need for it, no matter what Fraser might see himself. It would all become apparent in time, he was sure.

"Is everything alright, Sir?"  

Fraser resisted the urge to jump at the sudden appearance of Turnbull, "Yes, quite, constable. I was just catching my breath."  

Turnbull nodded wisely, his head bobbing up and down fiercely, "Oh yes, sir, I do understand." He paused for a moment, before leaning forward conspiratorially. "Do they wish for more tea, do you think?"  

Fraser pulled himself up, tugging on the hem of his serge to straighten it. "No, Turnbull, I'm sure if they did, they would have called for you."  

"Oh." The poor man looked almost disappointed. "Yes, I suppose you're right about that, sir."  

He sighed, "But I'm sure Chief Superintendent Mkahanil would appreciate a snack before his return? Perhaps you could whip him up something to eat before he leaves."  

Turnbull brightened immediately at the prospect of cooking for someone of such importance. "Oh yes! A brilliant idea, sir!" The man had a veritable skip in his step as he rushed off into the kitchens, only to rush back out a few seconds later. "Will you be joining them, Sir?"  

"No, I'm expected at the station."  

"_Very_ good, sir."  

Suppressing another sigh, Fraser turned, shaking his head. He never did understand how someone so young (for what he was) could be assigned to such a distant post as this. Usually by the time officers were sent this far South, the shine had worn off them. But somehow that man had managed to garner the trust of his superiors enough to be assigned here, while at the same time, irritating his superiors enough to be assigned here, and though it all, he retained such an air of innocence and hope, that Fraser was often surprised that none of the children who came to Consulate were able to point at the man and ask, "Why does that men in red have wings?"

Diefenbaker was quick to ask after Fraser's pensive quiet when they met outside the Consulate doors, but Fraser decided it best to only give him the bare bones information on their new assignment. Deif was also quick to tell Fraser, quite plainly, that _he_ had felt nothing but Goodness from their new friend. Diefenbaker had then gone on to share a few more opinions on the situation, expressing his disdain on a wide range of subjects, from the bureaucracy above, to the nearsightedness of anyone to pigeonhole a human during their childhood. And as was his nature, he made no attempts at diplomacy in describing his disgust at anyone so foolish as to misread this new man's fate so badly so as to endanger his soul in adulthood.

Fraser didn't have the heart to cut his snide remarks off. He was an Angel, and he was dedicated and faithful to his calling and to his orders, and would never be so bold as to speak out against those he served under. However that did not mean he did not, on rare occasion, agree with his furred friend who could say (to those with the ability to listen) what Fraser himself could not or would not say himself. And in the end he had found it was rarely worth the effort of trying to silence him on the subject.

Still, if someone from so high a rank as the Second Choir had come down to give him the assignment personally, then truly this was a work of great importance to be done. Fraser just hoped he was strong enough to do it. Raymond Kowalski was a powerful, and a indeed very charismatic man, and Fraser had already felt too strong of a spark between them the day before. Fraser had always known of his own weakness for those pure of heart and quick of mind, especially for those who also demonstrated such fearsome loyalty and trust as his new partner had during their adventure, but he had grown used to not finding that in those around him. His work with Detective Vecchio had led him to many in need, and had given him the tools necessary to save many lives and correct the courses of so many fates, but at a cost of closing himself off tightly to any draw he might feel to those around him. He had learned his lesson with Victoria too well. He had let himself see in her something which was no longer there. Vecchio had tried to warn him not to let her drag him with her when she fell...he just had no idea his words would be so accurate. It had been many years since an Angel of her rank had fallen so deeply, and Fraser was still ashamed at how close he had come to letting her take him down with her.

A sharp word from Dief drew him out of his thoughts and he looked up, surprised to find them approaching their destination of the 27th Police Department. He couldn't suppress the sigh this time. Whatever fate had brought him into this moment, he had a great deal of work ahead of him.  


* * *

  
Fraser had long since gotten used to people forgetting (or simply not bothering) to knock before barging into his office; he'd learned early on to avoid the need to change clothing during work hours, or at any time which Inspector Thatcher was within a mile radius of the Consulate. However, despite its regularity, it never ceased to catch him off guard when it did happen, and he never did fully learn to suppress the instinct to jump to attention when the person entered. Though considering how often it _was_ Inspector Thatcher doing the barging, he supposed that instinct was for the best as one should _always_ rise when a superior officer entered a room.

"Constable, welcome back."

"Thank you, Sir."

Thatcher smiled wildly, crossing her arms over her impeccably ironed peach blazer, "I take your safe return to consular duties to imply another successful closure of a case with the Chicago PD?"

Fraser was well aware that her smile was just a shade too friendly, but nodded respectfully anyways. He doubted she wanted to know the details of the case, but he was a firm believer that one's superiors should always remain well informed. Also, if she became frustrated enough, she might come around to the point of her visit more quickly. Perhaps a slightly less then heroic tactic, but one he found effective none the less. "Yes, Sir, it would seem that the Cher impersonator was not, in fact, Miss Modeski at all, but her long time boyfriend, Mr. Byers. Once Ray found the size twelve red leather pumps hidden in the broom closet at the club, he was quickly able to deduce that Mr. Byer's alibi from the nights in question were in fact, quite fabricated, and--"

She quickly waved one elegantly manicured hand though the air, briskly dismissing his explanations. "Yes, I'm sure he's a very bad man who will do the full time required for his punishment, Constable."

"Oh no, Sir!" Fraser jumped in, trying to correct her misconceptions, "No, Mr. Byers was also quite innocent! While his alibi for the nights in question did turn out to be false, once we knew his where abouts at those times, we were in fact, able to provide a whole new set of alibis for him as he was on stage and witnessed by several dozen men and women, all of whom shared a great love of the local Chicago night life. No, in fact it turned out the smuggler was actually--"

"That is not why I am _here_, Constable." she interrupted, her hands once again folded across her chest.

"Ah."

Thatcher sighed and raised one hand to rub at her temple for a moment. "No, Constable. I've just been contacted by Chief Superintendent Mkahanil. It's been nearly two years since you were assigned to Stanley Kowalski, and the higher ups are beginning to wonder about your progress."

"Ah."

Thatcher raised an eyebrow high, clearly waiting for him to continue. She gave in first. "_Has_ there been any progress on your current assignment, Constable?"

"Yes. Of course, Sir."

The eyebrow didn't lower at all. "Yes, Constable? And?"

He cracked his neck sharply. "I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to give any kind of formal report, Sir."

Her eyes narrowed sharply. "Fraser, it has been _two years_."

He nodded once, tongue flashing out to lick at his lip as he kept his eyes respectfully upon the wall behind her. "Yes, Sir."

"The Powers won't wait on your report forever. They want to know what progress has been made! They're starting to ask me, and I would rather not go back to Chief Superintendent Mkahanil and tell him, 'I don't know; my Constable has not yet given me his report.' That's not the kind of attention I _want_ from our superiors, Fraser."

"No, Inspector."

She raised her hand to rub at her temple again. "Just when do you think you _will_ be able to report, Fraser?"

"Soon, Sir."

"_How_ soon?"

Fraser sighed, his chin dropping to his chest. "I'll go see if I can't find Detective Vecchio, he may not have retired for the evening yet."

Thatcher nodded slowly. "You do that, Constable. I can give you another week."

"_This_ week, Sir?"

She sighed. "Yes, _this_ week, Fraser. This man's soul may be in danger, and if you can not save him, he must be assigned to someone who can." She turned and was nearly out the door before she stopped herself with a hand against the moulding. She sighed and dropped her eyes to the floor halfway between them, head turned towards him but not looking at him. "I understand that you've been working closely with this man, Fraser, but you can't lose sight of your duties. You were assigned to him for a reason, and if you are unable to perform your duties, I'll have to hand his case over to someone who is." She did raise her eyes to his now, and Fraser's heart clenched. "I know you've grown close to him, but you're not doing him any favors by not completing your assignment, Fraser. It's more then his life we're trying to save here, it's his _soul_. If you are not up to the task..." She trailed off.

Fraser dropped his eyes again. "I'll have my report to you by the end of the week, Inspector."

She nodded, but didn't leave immediately. He waited for her to speak up again, but after a few slow heartbeats, she shook her head and walked out, not bothering to close the door behind her.

Fraser dropped into the chair he had been sitting in before her interruption and closed his eyes. He tried to muster up some gratitude when Diefenbaker came and rested his chin upon his knee, but in the end Fraser gave it up as lost, and kept his eyes closed.  


* * *

  
He'd promised Thatcher an end to his report within a week. Five days had passed since then, and he was still no closer to an answer.

He'd spent the first three days following Ray's every movement, never letting himself drift more then a dozen feet from the man, trying desperately to see something he'd missed. The fourth and fifth days he'd spent holed away in the records room at the 27th, first reviewing every case he and Ray had worked on together over the last 623 days, then every case Ray had worked on in his absence over that same period of time. Having found nothing of importance in his research, he'd finally given in and used a spark of his Charm upon the records keeper on duty (he'd spent a great deal of time debating with himself whether or not he should report the use of the gift, but decided in the end it that it fell within the parameters of his official duties, and he doubted very much that anyone would check this once) and used the computer to tap into both the Chicago PD's and the FBI's records on any and all cases that his friend had _ever_ worked on. By the time the Charm had worn off on Officer Chalmers and he had been forced to relinquish his use of the computer, he was no more informed than when he'd started.

He'd been hoping to find something he'd previously missed, some sign of Ray's path into the Darkness, some clue or flaw that he'd missed which showed that his friend was drifting further and further away from the Light.

In the end, all that he'd found was what he'd already known: that Ray Kowalski was a loyal, dedicated officer who would do anything for justice and his friends, but who had never found reason to use any means unforgivable to achieve his goals. He had, of course, done dark things while on assignment (many of his works undercover had been posing as very bad men who did very bad things), but Ray had never _liked_ to do any of those things, and he had always worked hard to make it up to anyone he'd hurt while on assignment. And he still felt the guilt of those actions, even now, years later. He hated _having_ to lie to people, and he felt the scar upon himself of everyone he'd ever hurt.

He still drank a bit too much after a particularly hard case, but never two nights in a row, and he always either walked home, or took a cab if he was not already in his apartment when it happened. He often complained about his mother's invasion of privacy, and her constant efforts to tidy his apartment and iron his clothes, but Fraser had more then once seen his friend start to put a dish into the washer, then remember his mother would be making one of her visits that day, and carefully pull the dishes (dirty, but rinsed) back onto the counter for her to find. He always tried to wash his dirtiest clothes himself, and if he did leave any for her to find, they were simple, routine items to wash, such as jeans and sweatshirts. He knew how important busy hands were to his mother, and how she took joy in his need to be cared for. He did his best to keep her happy, even if it made him uncomfortably, and he made sure that if she did find tasks to do in his apartment, they were easy to accomplish.

Benton Fraser had spent nearly every day in the presence of this man, and despite all that he'd gone though, all the trials he'd been set, and all the chances he'd had to falter, Fraser had always seen him do what was necessary in the end. And he had never _once_ seen any spark of Darkness inside the man.

But now he was out of time. He did not feel that Ray needed to be saved, not in any way, but if he _did not_ find a need for Ray's salvation, then Fraser's work would be considered a failure, and he would be whisked away for reassignment. The needs of Ray's soul would _always_ be placed ahead of any angel assigned to his protection, and if Fraser could not save him, then The Powers would assign someone who could.

He'd probably be sent back to Canada for re-training.

Fraser sighed and braced his arms over the sink in the men's room, his head falling deep between his shoulders. Perhaps he had spent too much time in this world, he had _certainly_ gotten far to close to Ray...

Perhaps reassignment _would_ be for the best, clearly Fraser needed re-training if he was so corrupted by the ways of Humans that he would let himself fall in love with a charge as he had. That he leave that charge's soul at risk in order to spend more time with him... If the Powers had seen a need for Ray's salvation, then truly there _must_ be a need for it, but Fraser himself was too beclouded by his own wants to see what was there, and too befuddled by his own wild emotions to do what was necessary.

Fraser could not see to Ray's needs, but perhaps the next one assigned to him could. Perhaps someone else could do for him what Fraser could not.

Perhaps Fraser would be allowed to come back to visit him. Someday. If his replacement succeeded in saving him.

"Yo, Fraser, let's go. Quittin' time, and the wolf wants pizza."

Fraser's eyes squeezed impossibly tighter for a moment, internalizing all this thoughts so that they would not, _could not_, show when he stood up, before he pushed himself away from the sink. "_Diefenbaker_ wants pizza, Ray?" he asked with fake incredulousness.

Ray grinned from where he stood in the doorway, "Yeah, I swear, he barked Morse Code for S-A-N-D-O-R and everything."

Fraser forced out a half smile, "I find that hard to believe, Ray, as it is actually not possible for wolves to bark. They can produce a wide range of vocalisations, it's true, but barking, despite common misconceptions, is not one of them."

Ray shrugged, still holding the bathroom door open for Fraser to pass, "Yeah, well maybe it was his inner half-dog trying to speak out from the depths. Come on, let's go feed the mutt."

Fraser nodded as they began the short walk down the hallway to collect Dief from beneath Ray's desk, "I suppose one night of pepperoni won't hurt." Ray gave him an odd glance, and Fraser quickly added, "If we spend long enough at your place, I'm sure most of its negative effects will have time to pass before I have to be shut with him in a room all night."

The quizzical look in Ray's eyes didn't quite go away, but he still nodded and clapped his hands together in front of Dief's eyes to draw his attention, "Yeah, sure, we can see if there's a game on or something." The trio was halfway to the car before Ray casually added, "Or you could just stay over." Fraser raised a surprised eyebrow. "You know, if the game goes into overtime or something."

Fraser nodded but didn't comment. This may be his last night in Ray's presence. He wasn't sure he was strong enough turn down the offer of the couch and a spare pillow when the time came.  


* * *

  
They had finished off the first pizza and put a small dent into the second, and the Leafs were winning four to two, before Ray finally snapped off the TV and rounded on Fraser, his eyes pinning him in place. "Okay, time to talk."

Fraser gulped down on the spark of fear. "Talk, Ray?"

Ray nodded and set his empty beer bottle onto the coffee table and turned to more fully face Fraser, one knee pulled up beneath him on the couch. "Yeah, now that I've finally lulled you into a false sense of security with hot food, and Canada's winning at hockey, it's time to finally drill you for information."

Fraser leaned forward to set his half finished glass of milk onto the table as well, but did not change his sitting position at all when he was done, keeping his body directed towards the TV, only his head turned partially in Ray's direction. "Ray, you know that I'll tell you anything you wish to know. Did you have a question about the last case? Something bothering you about the final answer?"

Ray frowned. "The case? Huh?"

Fraser scratched at his eyebrow. "I admit, I found myself incredibly surprised at the appearance of Mr. Langly's two companions, but I suppose it's not all that uncommon for a man of his age to take up an interest in fly fishing."

"What? No, Fraser, this is not about the case..." He tilted his head. "Is it?"

"Is what, Ray?"

Ray rolled his eyes. "Is it the _case_ that you wanna talk about?"

"I thought _you_ wanted to talk about the case, Ray, after all, you did bring it up. I--"

"No, Fraser, _you_ brought it up; _I_ was the one who just wanted to _talk_."

Fraser frowned. "Yes, I thought you wanted to talk about the case."

Ray pushed hard off the couch and began to pace back and forth between the coffee table and the darkened TV. "Frase, I only wanna talk about the case if, and _only if_ it's the case that has you so squirrely this week!"

Fraser sighed. "Perhaps I should go; you're clearly upset about something, and I don't wish to--"

Ray spun on him, one finger pointed as if ready to pin him into place. "You move and I swear I'll sic Dief on ya. Last time we didn't talk about something bothering us and you and I ended up punching it out on the shoreline and us both looking to transfer. No way I'm letting it get to that stage again, Fraser."

Fraser internalised a sigh, but outwardly he only nodded and forced his body to settle back into the couch again, his back pressed fully into the padding and his hands braced palm-open against his knees. When Ray was assured he would not again attempt to get up, he nodded a few times to himself and began to pace again.

Dief took the opportunity to slink from beneath the coffee table and slide though the open door to Ray's bedroom, the door quietly latching shut behind him. Fraser wanted to call him a coward, but knew that were he to do so, he would only be pointing out the flaws he saw in himself. Instead, he remained sitting and watched as his friend and partner paced back and forth across the room. Finally Ray seemed to wear himself out and stood facing the window, his fists pressed firmly against his hips and his head hung low, eyes closed.

"Look, Frase, I get that something is going on with you, you're acting all starched and pressed again. It's like you've suddenly turned back into the Mountie Action Figure from when we first met. You spend half the week pressed against my side, and I think, 'Okay, yeah, so this is a good thing, he's finally loosening up,' only you really aren't, because every little movement I make you're jumping at, and every time I look at you, it's like you're actually looking _inside_ of me, not _at_ me." Ray pointed his fore-and-pinky fingers at Fraser as he said this, but kept his head down, body still facing the window. "And that's a whole 'nother kind of freaky there when you do that, too, you know." He sighed and closed his hand into a fist again, settling it back onto his hip, a mirror of his other side. "You used to do it all the time, too, ya know? You finally stopped after that whole Volpe debacle, and after that it seemed like you finally started to _see_ me instead of just seeing _through_ me."

Ray's eyes were still closed and his brow furrowed as he thought carefully about every sentence before he let it out. Finally he lifted his head, but instead of turning to face Fraser, he just let it fall backwards, opening his eyes to the ceiling. "Something changed after that. You started relaxing, and not just around me, but in general, and it was like you were suddenly letting yourself _enjoy_ your life instead of just living it day to day. And it was good, it was _great_! We were on a roll together, this back and forth and this easiness and we were knocking down cases right and left. Didn't matter how crazy-insane they were, or how much sense nothing made, we handled it, and we did it dammed well."

Ray finally gave up on the ceiling and turned to face Fraser, looking him straight in the eye now. "You started to relax _and_ you started seeing me, and started really _being_ my friend instead of just playing one on TV." He paused to run a hand though his hair, making it seem even more wild for a moment. "But then that seemed to set off some inner Mountie turmoil and ya clammed up, again. _I_ sure as hell didn't know how to take that, so I ended up doing the same thing, and started acting like a dick, trying to prove how I didn't really _need_ you to see me." He shrugged. "After that, it was like we had to actually make the _decision_ to become friends and give working together as equals another try before you started relaxing again."

Fraser licked his lips, and had to swallow hard twice before he was finally able to get out a quiet, "We _are_ friends, Ray. I've never questioned that."

Ray nodded, softly this time, and walked back around the coffee table to sit beside him. "Neither have I, Frase. We've been _great_ friends, and you've been the best damned partner I've had in the last ten years. There's no one on this _Earth_ I'd rather have watching my back than you, Fraser."

"And I you, Ray." He kept his voice from breaking at the end only by digging his fingernails sharply into his knees.

"Yeah." Ray gave him a small smile and Fraser felt his heart start beating wildly in his chest. The sense of panic that had set in when Ray had turned off the TV had now lodged itself deep in his stomach. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself, to curl into a ball and not move until it went away. He wanted to unsheathe his wings and wrap them about himself like armor. But he knew he could do none of those things. Instead, he dropped his eyes down and watched as his fingernails dug painfully into his knees.

"Yeah," Ray gave a small, humorless laugh, "I never doubted that, either."

When Fraser made no move to continue the conversation, Ray sighed and gently lifted one of Fraser's hands off of his leg, cradling it in both of his own hands, long fingers stroking some small measure of comfort into him. "Look, Frase, something's got you panicking, and I can't help you if you don't talk to me, Buddy." Ray and Fraser both kept their eyes fixated on their hands, neither daring to look up, "I can't fix anything if you don't tell me what's broken. I was no good at asking about problems when I was married, only figured out how to do that part after it was too late. You're my partner and probably the best friend I've probably had in all my life, and I'll be _damned_ if I'm not gonna try to get it right this time!"

"Don't _say_ that, Ray!" Fraser flew off the couch, his legs propelling him halfway across the room before he spun. "Don't you _EVER_ say that! It's not true!"

Ray fell back against the couch, nearly sliding off of it at Fraser's sudden leap, his eyes wide and confused. "Say what? That you're my best friend? I just got finished--"

"You're not _damned_! You are not damned, and you never _will_ be damned! And--" Fraser closed his eyes as tight as he could, swallowing down the panic that had once again flooded his body. "And don't you _ever_ say that, Ray, please. Don't you _ever_ say--"

"Okay! Okay, Ben, Buddy, I got it. I won't be damned, not gonna happen." Ray pushed himself off the couch, keeping his voice low and steady, and started towards Fraser, his hands outstretched slightly, reaching for Fraser as if he were a jumper and Ray was afraid of scaring him further onto the ledge. But Fraser turned away, pulled away before he could be reached. Ray let his hands drop. "I didn't mean anything by it, Fraser. Didn't think you were all that picky about religion, either, as long as people did the right thing, you've never said... I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by it. You've never been bothered when I used the word before..." he trailed off.

Fraser couldn't believe how he was acting, couldn't believe how he was _slipping_ like this. This was his last night at Ray's side, and he couldn't throw it away like this, he couldn't _mess up_ like this, not now, not when there'd never be a chance again to fix it. "No, no you're right, I'm sorry, Ray, I didn't mean to yell at you." He kept his voice firm, refused to let it break, keeping his back turned so he wouldn't have to look his friend in the eye. He didn't think he'd be able to get any of the words out if he had to actually look at Ray while he said them. "You are right, of course, I have never been bothered by your saying that before. I'm sorry, as you said, this week has been hard for me, but it's nothing you've done, I assure you. None of this is your fault." He took a deep breath. "What is happening is entirely within the realm of the RCMP. There is nothing you can do to fix it, and I'm sorry my behavior has caused you any kind of stress."

Fraser took a deep breath, assessing whether or not he was composed enough to turn around before finally deciding it was as close as he was going to get. "I merely wished to spend a quiet night eating dinner with you, Ray. Next week may become rather complicated, and I did not wish to let the stress carry over into our evening together. I'm sorry my behavior has been so off this past week; it was never my intention to upset you."

Ray was frowning now, the lines always present on his face deepening with Fraser's every word. "What's going on, Frase? Whatever it is, you can _talk_ to me about it. Partners _talk_."

Fraser shook his head sadly. "No, Ray, I'm sorry, I'm afraid I can't. As I said, it is an RCMP matter, and there is nothing that can be done about it at this stage. What will happen will happen." Fraser turned and began to look for his Stetson. "Perhaps I am a little too on edge to make this evening enjoyable. It would probably be best for me to--" His voice trailed off as he felt Ray's hand drop onto his shoulder, not squeezing or trying to hold him at all, just a heavy, warm weigh pressing into him, holding him in place.

"Talk to me, Fraser, please."

Fraser shook his head again. "As I said, Ray, I appreciate your efforts, but there is nothing you can do on the matter. Now, I really do think that it would be best if I returned to the Consulate. I will, of course, see you in time for the morning briefings at--"

"Yeah, I don't think so, Fraser. You say that, but my gut says if I let you out that door, you won't be at work tomorrow." The hand did squeeze now. "I don't know, tell me I am crazy, Fraser. Tell me that my gut is wrong, and you _will_ be at that briefing.

Fraser drew in a breath to tell him just that, but he couldn't force the words out. He couldn't lie to a direct query like that. Not now, and never to Ray. Taking Fraser's silence for the small victory it might have been, Ray now rested both hands on Fraser's shoulders, tightening his fingers so gently that Fraser wanted to break beneath the kindness and friendship he knew they represented. "I don't know what's going on, Fraser, or _why_ you've spent the last two days hiding away, or what you've been looking for in those files. Hell, I don't know what you've been looking for at _all_ this past week, but _something_ is wrong, and it's eating you up inside. I haven't seen you act like this in a long time, and it's scaring me, here, Fraser. You spent all week _looking_ for something, and then you come here tonight it's like you've given up on it and tomorrow you're not even going to try _at all_ to find whatever-the-hell it is."

Ray used his hands on Fraser's shoulders to gently turn him around. He looked hard into Fraser's eyes, and Fraser had no strength to look away. "Fraser..._Benton_, please, as your friend and as your partner, and as whatever else we might be, tell me what's going on? Whatever it is, we can deal with it together. We've dealt with everything else thrown our way, we can handle this too."

"Oh, Ray." He couldn't help it, he felt his voice finally break as Ray's name passed his lips, and closed his eyes against the shame of that display of weakness. This last week had been so much; he'd spent the last two years letting himself fall into a comfort that he hadn't felt since his first days on assignment on Earth. And now, all these years later, seeing it come to a close, hearing Ray finally call him by more then his rank or surname...he was simply too exhausted to fight its conclusion any longer. He felt the truth of what was coming pressing down on him like the weight of God. He'd let himself fall too far this time, become _too_ human, and now he must pay the price.

"You're scaring me, Frase. It's not like you to...to..._give up_ like this." Ray gave Fraser a quick, hard shake, "I'm no _good_ at this, Ben! I don't know how to use words like this, not like you do. But I'm trying. Just tell me what's going on, just tell me what it is you need to do and we'll figure something out."

Fraser shook his head and once he started, found he couldn't stop. "There's nothing to be done, Ray. I've failed in my assigned task, and now it will be taken over by someone better suited. Someone more competent. There's nothing more either of us can do."

Ray's hands clenched on his shoulders, digging in deeply. "Are you being transferred, Fraser? Is that what's happening?"

Fraser managed to shift his constant head shake into a nod now, still finding himself unable to stop. "I failed, Ray, and my failure has put you in danger, and after tomorrow, someone else will be assigned as your...as your partner."

"No."

"Ray, there is--"

"NO!" Ray shook him again, much harder this time, until Fraser opened his eyes, his head finally stilling.

He'd never seen Ray this incensed before. He'd thought he had, thought he'd seen some emotion like this after throwing his punch on the shore, or after Ray found Fraser bruised and bleeding from Warfield's goons, but what he had seen before held no light to the pure fury that shone from him now. "There is no fucking way I'm letting them send you _anywhere_, Fraser. I don't know what this bullshit is about you failing me, but there is _no fucking way_ I'm gonna sit back and let _anyone_ tell you that! You have _not_ failed fucking _anything_, Fraser, and they're sure as hell not gonna blame it on me." Ray pushed away, stomping towards the apartment door. "Get your fucking hat, Fraser, we're gonna go find Thatcher."

"Ray, no!"

Ray was halfway across the room in an instant, pausing only long enough to snatch the Stetson off the table and throw it towards Fraser's chest. Fraser caught it out of reflex, but Ray was already thrusting his hands into his jacket before Fraser could push himself across the room, dropping the Stetson to the floor to grab at Ray, to stop him from sliding the leather jacket up onto his shoulders. "Ray, No. There is nothing you can do, here! There is nothing _either_ of us can do."

Ray gave a half-hearted shake, trying to pull away enough to finish putting his coat on, but Fraser didn't let him. "Ray, Please. This is our last night. _Please_ don't spend it angry."

Ray's eyes widened again as he stared at Fraser, his jacket still only half on. "Don't spend it _angry_? You tell me the idiots who have you on guard duty all day and living out of your office are sending you away, and I'm not supposed to be _angry_?"

"Ray..." The energy from the desperation and panic started to drain out of him even as he stood there. He felt his arms drop away and he let his eyes drift closed. "Please, Ray. There is a lot going on that you don't know, but there truly is nothing to be done about it. Please. This is almost certainly my last night here, my last night with you, please don't spend it angry."

There was a long silence, neither of them moving, before he felt the breath leaving Ray all in a rush. He wanted to open his eyes, to look at his friend and assure him that things would be fine, that this was not the end, but he could not find it within himself to lie. Not right now. Not now that the exhaustion was setting into his bones and his heart was feeling the weight of fate.

He heard the sound of the leather jacket sliding to the floor, and then was startled to feel Ray's arms slide between his and around to his back. He tried to open his eyes again, but as he felt their chests press together, and Ray's forehead touch his, he decided it was unnecessary; instead let his own arms come up to fold around Ray's back as well. After a few moments, Ray let his forehead slide off Fraser's, and come to rest tucked onto his shoulder, pressed against his neck, and once again, Fraser mirrored him.

He had no idea how long they stayed like that. It was by far the longest hug he'd shared with _anyone_ in years, and he felt no desire to end it. If this truly was his last, he wanted to be able to remember it for all the nights of the eternity before him.

And if this truly was his last chance, he wanted one more thing as well.

When he drew back, Ray did the same with a sigh, and Fraser slid closer in an instant, finally, _finally_ sealing that space between them, his lips coming to rest softly against Ray's. Ray's lips held an instant of surprise, but then no hesitation as they parted beneath his, and the kiss deepened before the end of the heartbeat.

It was quiet, tender, loving, all the things he had thought it would be, were it ever to come. But when Fraser pulled in tighter, tilted his head to make it once again deeper, he found himself whimpering as Ray pulled away.

Ray soothed his sounds with a few quick, reassuring kisses, before pressing their foreheads together again. "I'm not going to kiss you goodbye, Fraser. I've wanted you for too long to get this only when you're leaving me."

Fraser felt the sting of painful tears press against the inside of his eyelids, but he would never let them fall. Ray was right, and he deserved better than this. But he felt Ray's lips pulling him into another kiss before he could end the embrace. This time it was Ray who deepened it, finally putting into the kiss all the passion Fraser had just been hoping for. When it ended, he opened confused eyes to Ray.

Ray shook his head, "I'm not going to get you just to give you up, Ben. I don't know what's going on, or why you're so accepting of this shit going down, but I'm not going to give you up just because the higher ups have their heads up their asses over something. If you go, I'm going with you."

Fraser frowned, "What? Ray, you can't mean--"

"I can. I do." He kissed Fraser again, but once again ended it quickly, "Benton Fraser, I've been in love with you for two years now. You're my best friend and my partner, and if there's _any_ chance that I'm not alone in feeling like this--and I'm really, _desperately_ praying to God right now that I'm not totally fucking this up by even thinking that--then I'm not willing to let that go."

"Ray, oh Ray, that's not how this works. I don't see how--" He felt Ray start to pull away, felt Ray's hands sliding down his arms, and he shook his head fiercely, reaching out to grip Ray's hands tightly before he could part fully. "No, Ray, don't--"

"I'm not." Ray squeezed their hands. "Look, Fraser, I really don't know what's going on here, but you and I are gonna be talking about every _bit_ of it tonight, you can believe me." And here he offered a small, hopeful smile. "But I meant what I said, Fraser. I'm not willing to let you just walk away tomorrow. Not now, not after tonight."

"But even if that is what you wanted, Ray, you can't just leave your work! You can't endanger your cover, or Ray's, and as you say, you _don't_ know what's going on. You can't simply walk away from your life, and I certainly can't let you do it for me!"

Ray pulled one of his hands free and slid it across Fraser's jaw. "Not just _for_ you, Fraser. _With_ you. I love you. If you feel the same, then I--"

"I do, Ray," Fraser rushed to interrupt, "You have no idea how much I love you, and for so long, but--"

Ray shut him up with another kiss, and this time neither of them pulled away. This time as the kiss went on, Fraser finally felt the desperation that had been dragging at him all week start to drain away. More and more the kiss was filled with passion, with desire, and need, and want, all driving away the dread inside him. It was something incredible, something Fraser had never felt before. He'd thought he'd felt love in Victoria's kisses, but now that he had it, he could see there was _nothing_ in comparison. Victoria's could never contain a love like this, because _she_ could not contain a love like this, not for anyone or anything but herself. But Ray's kiss had no boundaries, no limits placed upon his emotions, and no end to the love he offered.

They both wanted so much more, but neither one was calm enough to let that happen yet. Gradually, their kisses eased, and when they finally separated they were smiling at each other, neither man feeling the panic nor the fear that had so consumed them before. Ray laughed, and detangled one hand long enough to grip the back of Fraser's head, weaving his fingers into the soft hair. "You'd better believe you and I are going to talk about _everything_ you _haven't_ told me over the last two years tonight, Benton."

Fraser looked deep into Ray's eyes, searching for something, some knowledge or fear or doubt or darkness, but just has he had every time before, he saw only light, and friendship, and trust, and now also love. This time he saw something inside Ray that he'd never been able to see before: Faith.

Not faith in any god, or religion or fate, but a faith in _Fraser_. A faith that no matter what Fraser told him, Ray would listen, and still trust in him, and a faith that doing so was the right thing. A faith in a future that Fraser had never before seen as possible.

"I don't know that I can truly _say_ everything, Ray. Or that you will believe any of it."

Ray shook his head a bit, and now grinned wildly, "What, is it any more unbelievable then any of our cases?"

Ray clearly meant for this to make Fraser laugh, or at least smile a little, but Fraser could only nod. "I very much doubt you'll like what you hear."

Ray's hand stilled, and now he was the one looking deep into Fraser's eyes. Finally, he seemed to make up his mind about what he saw, and nodded. "Okay, Ben, but how about you tell me first, and then we can decide together."  


* * *

  
"Constable, how nice to see you. I was beginning to wonder if you were feeling all right. After all, I do believe that this was the first sick day you've taken several years."

Fraser nodded and forced himself into a parade rest before Thatcher's desk. "Yes, sir, I am feeling quite well, actually. Better then I have in some time."

"I see. And now that you are feeling so well, can I assume you have a report to make?"

"Yes, Sir. And no Sir."

"And by that you mean..." Both of her eyebrows were perfectly arched now.

"Actually, Sir, I'm here to tender my resignation."

The eyebrows dropped. She blinked a few times before finally managing a clearly stunned, "Resignation?"

Fraser nodded. "Yes, Sir. My official report on the Salvation of Detective Stanley Raymond Kowalski is that while his life record _was_ entered into the history keeper's books incorrectly, he has _not_ been caused any undue stress or strain upon his soul as a result. Stanley Kowalski is a healthy, stable, well-rounded adult whose life simply turned out a little differently then he thought it would. I have studied him closely for the last two years, and I have never once seen him take any steps which would lead him into the Darkness, not even when given ample opportunity for those steps to be taken. Even when at his lowest points, he still shines brightly for the Light."

Thatcher's eyes narrowed, "You're saying he's _fine_?"

"Yes, Sir."

She sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. "Alright, pretending I accept that report, what does it have to do with your _resignation_, Constable? There hasn't been a resignation in the corps in nearly three hundred years!"

Fraser considered his words a little more carefully here. "I have thought long and hard about my next assignment after this, Sir, and also considered if I should return Home for further training. After much consideration I have accepted that I no longer fit in the life I was created for. No more than Ray would have fit the life originally planned out for him." He rubbed at his eyebrow a little sheepishly. "You must admit, Sir, even back home, I was never quite like our peers."

"Constable," she sighed, "I can honestly say you are like no one I've _ever_ met." She rubbed at her forehead. "Do you realise what it would mean for you to resign? You wouldn't just be leaving the RCMP, after all."

Fraser nodded. "Yes, Sir. I do understand, and I take these steps in full knowledge and consent. I have chosen to live out the rest of my life as a normal human. I've already filled out the forms, Sir." He pulled out a sheaf of papers which had not been there a moment before and slid them across her desk. "Everything is signed and ready to be filed, from the Request of Permanent Human Body to the application for transfer back to Canada."

Thatcher flipped quickly though the paperwork. "And by Canada, you mean..."

"I mean Canada, Sir. Just Canada."

It took quite some time for Thatcher to finish reviewing all the pages, reading many of them several times, but Fraser was long practiced at waiting, and felt no unease in his parade rest. It wasn't until she reached the final forms that she paused. "Constable, this form has already been authorised."

Fraser nodded, "Yes, Sir. I took the liberty of pushing that one though myself yesterday afternoon before the clerk's office closed for the weekend. It's purely Mundane in nature, of course, though I will admit using some of my Gifts to accelerate the process, while they were still in my power. I've also filled out the forms disclosing the use of that gift beneath, Sir."

"So you have." She signed. "And I assume that Detective Kowalski _wants_ to emigrate to Canada?"

The smile Fraser gave her was nearly blinding. "Yes, Sir, he assures me he does."

Thatcher set the papers aside and folded her hands on top of her desk. "Constable I am quite reluctant to sign off on these. I understand that you've adapted to this world, and its people, at least in comparison to many of our kind, but to go _native_ like this...there can be no going back after this! If I sign these, Fraser, that's it. You'll lose your wings, all your gifts, everything will be gone forever for you. You'll live a normal human life, with a normal human lifespan, subject to all the risks and dangers therein. You'll never be able to return home."

Fraser looked her carefully in the eye and saw someone who truly was worried for him, but he had no doubts about his own path any longer. For the first time in longer then even his angelic memory could recall, he had absolutely no doubts at all. She looked back at him just as carefully before finally seeing the same thing.

She nodded slowly. "Alright. I'll sign. I assume you've already made arrangements for your arrival in Canada? Prepared a life for yourself?"

"The groundwork for one, yes, Sir. The rest I'll be building myself."

"I never thought I'd see the day that Constable Benton Fraser, the once Golden Child and brightest light of the Corps, would choose to live the rest of his life as a human." She shook her head even as she lifted the pen. "I seriously doubt Mkahanil is going to see this one coming."  


* * *

  
"Well? How'd it go? We all set?"

Fraser had a light step as he went down the steps of the Consulate for the last time and joined Ray at the bottom with a kiss. "Fully human as of now. With retroactive pay for the last few centuries work in a new bank account as well."

Ray raised one eyebrow high, "I didn't think angels _got_ paid."

Fraser grinned. "I think it was mostly a goodbye gift from Turnbull."

Ray snorted and shook his head. "Right." He tilted his head and gave Fraser a sly look. "That mean we're ready to start packing? I already spoke to Welsh and the new Vecchio is already settling in like nothing has happened. Though it apparently freaked the hell outta Huey to suddenly not be the only African American in the bullpen."

"I'm sure he and Rai will get along wonderfully in time."

Ray gave him an amused, knowing look, before giving in and laughing outright. "And I'm sure you didn't have _any_ hand in her placement, either?" He shook his head. "So, you really ready to do this? I mean, go out there, into the world, get your hands dirty and everything?"

Fraser gave him a wide smile. "More then ready, Ray. I'm rather looking forward to getting dirty."

Ray gave him a wicked grin, "Oh yeah, _that_ I can help with. Might take some getting used to, though, you've been an Angel for an awfully long time. Never once getting a speck on that lovely Uniform, wings always pristine and preened..."

"I'm sure I'll adapt, Ray. After all, I'll have you to teach me."

Ray gave him a sweet kiss in agreement.

"Come on, Ray, let's go to Canada."

Fraser held the door to the GTO open to Dief, before sliding in himself. By the time they were both buckled up, Ray had the engine started and was already talking again. "You know, I was wondering about that. I mean, I always knew Canada was a whole 'nother world, but even I never guessed it was _that_ outta this world."

"Very few do, Ray."

"Yeah, so when you say we're going to _Canada_, you don't mean..._Canada_, do you?"

"Let's just say that the Canada where I'm from, and Canada we're going to, are two very different states of mind."

"Yeah?"

"Yes."

"And where exactly is it _we're_ going?"

"We're going home, Ray, of course."

Ray gave him a blinding grin of his own. "Right. Home. Okay, then, pitter patter, let's fly at her."


End file.
